Black Richard's Heart (The MacCulloughs #1) - Suzan Tisdale Page 0,129
heart still belonged to her long dead husband, or so she had told him weeks ago. Lies, all lies. He was going to kill whoever it was who had gotten her with child.
Thrusting her hands on her hips she said, “Richard is the father, ye audacious lout!”
His eyebrows sprung up so fast it nearly hurt. “What?” He shouted in disbelief.
Marisse rolled her eyes and shook her head. “What on earth has gotten into ye, Rory?” She pursed her lips as she studied him closely. “Aeschene would never disrespect Richard so much as to take a lover. She loves him with all her heart. I cannae believe ye’d think such ugly thoughts about such a sweet woman!”
Rory was too stupefied to speak. Clarity and understanding soon dawned. “Aeschene is with child?” he asked in a stunned whisper.
“Wheest!” she said, pulling him away from the door. “She wants to tell Richard herself.”
“Aeschene is with child,” he repeated. Relief washed over him as he let out a quick breath.
“Be quiet,” she said, admonishing him again. “Really, Rory, ye are behaving like an arse and I dunnae understand why.”
A low laugh bubbled up from the pit of his stomach and for the life of him, he couldn’t contain his laughter. “Och! Lass, please forgive me!”
“Forgive ye for what?”
“Mable and Loreen said ye had gone to see the midwife. I thought ’twas ye who was with child.”
Marisse didn’t find it nearly as amusing as Rory did. Fury ignited in her pretty green eyes as she watched him laughing his foolish head off.
She didn’t see Richard and Lachlan heading down the hall. All she could see was Rory, with his head thrown back, enjoying a grand belly laugh. He’d insulted her by assuming ’twas she who was with child. And then, when he realized the folly of his assumption, he laughed with relief. Relief. As if he had anything to say about what she did or didn’t do or with whom she did or didn’t do it with.
Unable to control the rage building up, she pulled her hand into a fist, drew back, and let him have it. Right on that square jaw of his.
“To the devil with ye, Rory MacCullough! To the devil with ye!”
“What the bloody hell was that for?” he asked in utter disbelief.
Marisse ignored the question, spun on her heels and returned to Aeschene’s chamber.
Lachlan and Richard helped the poor sod to his feet.
“I’d say ye angered the lass,” Richard said.
Rory shook out the cobwebs from his head. “But how?”
“Well, ye did assume she was with child,” Lachlan said. “Ye disparaged her reputation.”
His face burned red with humiliation and anger. Stammering, he fought to find the appropriate words.
Richard slapped him on the back and chuckled. “I must admit I feel better knowing she is protecting my wife. The lass can hit, aye?”
Rory rubbed his jaw. “She caught me off guard,” he argued. “Had I known she was going to hit me —”
“Never underestimate the anger of a woman, Rory,” Richard told him. “Else ye will find yerself knocked on yer arse again. My advice is to mind yer tongue and never make assumptions.”
Rory thought long and hard before his lips curved into a wry smile. “I am goin’ to marry that lass, someday, mark my words.”
Richard and Lachlan broke into a fit of laughter. “I wager she will hit him again before that happens,” Richard said.
“Nay,” Lachlan said. “I wager she’ll hit him more than once.”
Richard was met with several angry women when he entered his bedchamber. Even his sweet wife looked murderous. The blue eyes he could stare into for hours, were naught but slits as she sat in front of the fire.
“Is that Rory?” she asked angrily as she jumped to her feet.
“Nay, lass, ’tis me, Richard,” he replied as he beamed a bright smile.
“He owes Marisse and apology,” she said, pulling her shoulders back. “And I want to beat him senseless.”
The other women chimed in, all voicing their opinions on the matter. Richard ignored them, unable to pull his gaze from his beautiful wife. Slowly, he walked toward her and took her hands into his, all the while, she was telling him just what she thought of Rory MacCullough.
Sweetly, he pressed a kiss to her fingers. “Lass, how was it Rory came to believe Marisse was with child?”
“I dunnae ken!” she exclaimed. “Marisse went to get the midwife for me. He must have seen her and assumed -rather incorrectly I might add - that Marisse was with child. I